


Heat

by afewreelthoughts



Series: My Words Will Be Your Light [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Letters, Multi, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 21:50:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17968679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewreelthoughts/pseuds/afewreelthoughts
Summary: After months of exchanging letters with Prince Oberyn Martell, Willas travels to Sunspear, only to discover that his beloved prince already has a lover of his own.





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> ASOIAF Rare Pair Week, Day 6: Dorne // Beyond the Wall
> 
> I own nothing and make no money from this. Everything belongs to George R.R. Martin.

Willas Tyrell had always loved the heat of the sun. As he lay in the garden, feeling the grass tickle his skin and soaking up the warm springtime air, he told himself that nothing had been taken from him. 

 

In the shadows of the hedges behind him, just far enough away that they thought they could not be heard, and just close enough for Willas to hear them, his father and the maester discussed how he may never walk again.

 

“I’ll kill that Dornish snake who did this!” Mace Tyrell hissed. 

 

“Please don’t, father,” Willas said, eyes closed against the noon sun. 

 

“And why not? You could have been a great knight and he stole all of that from you.”

 

“There are other great things I can do, father.” 

 

And there were. He need not give up he love of the outdoors simply because he could not walk without assistance. His tutors growing up said it was wonderful he was so bookish, so quiet, in contrast to the rest of his siblings, so rowdy and escaping to be outside as often as they could, as though those things always took place indoors, books and quiet. 

 

Willas knew that he was only throwing himself into every passion he had simultaneously in order to distract himself from the new reality of his life. 

 

That very night the first letter from Oberyn arrived, reiterating everything he had said at the tourney weeks before. 

 

_I must beg your forgiveness, my dear Ser Willas,_ Prince Oberyn wrote. _If there is anything myself or my family can do to help you, do not hesitate to ask. I am afraid that tourney will be my last for a while, and w_ _hat I will remember most is your_ _grace both on the field and off of it._

_I understand you might be bedridden for a while, but if you are able, you are always welcome here in Sunspear. If you ever visit, I will do what I can_ _to make up for what I’ve done to you._

_***_

 

_Prince Oberyn,_  Willas replied. 

 

_You’ve done nothing to me, nothing that may not have happened eventually. Jousting is a dangerous sport, and I’m finding now that there is much more to life than danger. I don’t imagine that I will be well enough to travel for some time, however, and I must decline your generous proposal._

 

He left out how his leg still ached whenever he sat up and how his heart still ached watching Loras and Margaery chase each other through the gardens. But you don’t tell such things to a mere friendly acquaintance. 

 

***

 

_Tell me,_ the next letter said,  _what else do you love? I find myself so drawn to danger that I see little else in the world around me._

 

Willas read the letter balancing on a new leg brace in the stables, watching as Highgarden’s newest groom tended to his horses. He thought about how much he loved tending to the animals here, his hawks and horses, thought about how safe he was here in Highgarden, and how his family, even after everything, still looked at him the same. 

 

***

 

_I love books_ , Willas wrote back, _I love music. I love animals and have been spending a lot of time with the horses and falcons here in Highgarden. I ride, but not often. I love my little brothers and sister. They are thinking of finally sending Loras off to squire somewhere. I would recommend Sunspear, but I think my father’s head might explode if I did._

 

He hesitated before continuing, but thought that Oberyn would not take offense.

_I would love to hear what life’s really like in Dorne. I fear my father is so blinded by his hatred that what I’ve heard is nothing like the truth._

_***_

 

_The food is spicier, the clothes are lighter, the sun is hotter, and no one much cares who beds whom. I am sorry to disappoint you. If you wish I’ll tell false tales of my debauchery._ Oberyn replied. 

 

***

 

_I value that you don’t embellish the truth,_ Willas said. 

 

***

_I embellish everything, dear boy._

_***_

 

Writing to Oberyn became a habit for Willas, and perhaps it was his imagination, his hazy memories of the way Oberyn had looked at him when he had fallen from his horse, he thought there was meaning there not spoken out loud. 

 

And then he did not hear from Oberyn for weeks, and he knew he must have been imagining things, seeing what he wanted to see in their correspondence. Oberyn was kind and gallant, but their acquaintance could easily fade away without either of them losing much. It gave him a hollow feeling in his stomach, so he threw himself into the densest histories in his father’s library in order to think of other men living, loving, and dying hundreds and thousands of years ago.

 

And then a letter did not arrive from Sunspear, but a box, tucked into the saddlebags of the messenger from Sunspear. Oberyn was glad that his father was busy with Loras that day and never saw the man.

  

Inside the box, a letter lay on top of a pile of silks.

 

_I long to see you again, my friend,_ Oberyn said,  _and hopefully become more intimately acquainted than letters can allow us. I find myself missing you more and more, so much so that I’ve planted a bush of roses here in the gardens of Sunspear. My father and daughters tell me that it’s a foolish thing, that they will not survive in the desert heat, but I’ve selected a variety that are stronger than they appear._

_Since you may not ever be well enough to travel, please accept this humble gift. You would honor me if you chose to wear it. Perhaps it might help to heal you, as I told them to weave my good wishes for your recovery._

_Oberyn_

Willas lifted a diaphanous sandsilk robe and trousers from the box. They were the lightest fabric Willas had ever touched and they smelled of oranges and spice. 

 

Later that night, Willas found that he was telling his father that he would be visiting Dorne, on a mission of good will and something or other, and would be taking only the squires and servants needed for him to travel safely. Mace Tyrell frowned at it and started on a long tirade about the uselessness of reasoning with the Dornish, but Willas heard not a word of it. His thought were elsewhere. 

 

***

 

The heat of Dorne was different than Highgarden’s, the same sun as if seen at an angle, stripped of the golden haze that lay over the Reach, harsh and white-hot. Willas loved it. 

 

After hot, tiring weeks going south, riding in a carriage his poor wounded leg and poor pale skin, he arrived at Sunspear, and Oberyn was there to meet him. 

 

The prince looked just the way Willas remembered him: long nose, sleek dark hair, intensity in every muscle of his body. A woman stood beside him, who had the same long nose and handsome features, but different enough from Oberyn that they didn’t look to be related. Probably not one of his many daughters, then. 

 

Willas held Oberyn’s eyes as his squires helped him out of his carriage. He wore the silks Oberyn had given him that day, though they had begun to stick to his skin in the heat of travel.

 

Oberyn’s face lit up when he saw what Willas was wearing, and he walked to his side, his own silken robe flowing out behind him, and took Willas’s arm. “I am so happy to see that you’ve come.” 

 

“He was waiting for word of your carriage for days,” the woman said. 

 

“I did not realize I was so… anticipated, my lady,” Willas said and bowed his head to her. 

 

“This is my paramour, Ellaria Sand,” Oberyn said by way of introduction. 

 

Needles pricked Willas’s chest. 

 

“I’m Willas Tyrell, my lady.”

 

Ellaria laughed. “I’m no lady, and I’ve heard quite a bit about you.” 

 

“I shared all your letters with her,” Oberyn said. 

 

_All of them?_  Willas flushed.  _Oh gods…_ Suddenly he was too hot. 

 

“Let’s get you inside,” Oberyn said. “You’re not accustomed to the heat.” 

 

For dinner they lay on cushions surrounding a low table. 

 

"Is this the way you eat in Dorne?” Willas asked, settling his aching leg onto a pile of soft satin pillows. 

 

"Not always, but I thought it might be easier for you,” Oberyn said, “after your long journey.”

 

Willas did not recognize most of the food, and his lips tingled from the spices. A squire refilled Willas’s water and sweet wine whenever he needed, which was twice as often as Oberyn and his… lover. 

 

Oberyn poured honey over the bread on his plate, and when it dribbled over his fingers, Ellaria licked them clean. 

 

The sight went directly to Willas's cock, and the needles in his chest pressed in deeper. He told himself to wait a little longer, so that it was not obvious what had upset him. 

 

“I’m going to retire to my rooms for a while, if that’s all right,” Willas said. 

 

Oberyn’s face fell. “You must be tired. Here, let me help you up.”

 

Willas wished he could refuse, wished he could spring to his feet and navigate the strange halls with only his cane, but he was still relearning how to walk. They had said he might never again, and he could. It should have been a miracle, but Willas still stumbled so often he found it hard to appreciate. 

 

Oberyn’s strong hands settled beneath Willas’s arms, and gently pulled him to his feet, and once Willas had retrieved his cane, Oberyn simply offered his arm to help balance him. He smelled sweet, and his dark eyes looked at Willas like there was a promise in them. But he had a lover. Of course he had a lover. 

 

“I should be able to walk there myself,” Willas said. “Thank you.” 

 

Oberyn gestured to the squire to show Willas the way, and then… he let them go, settling back on the cushions with Ellaria. 

 

When the squire showed him his rooms, Willas eased himself onto the bed, covered in silks patterned like the ones he wore. The window tall as the room itself, led out onto a balcony that looked out over the city, soft curtains blocking the worst of the sun, but allowing cool breezes inside.

 

Willas ran his hands across his face. He was sweating, unshaven, and must have looked like the fool he was. Had he hoped to be seduced? To be carried away by strength greater than his own and debauched without a choice in the matter? He told himself that he had no illusions about Exotic Dorne, that his father’s prejudices were not his own… and yet, what had he hoped for when he came here? 

 

He lay restless on his bed, until the thin silks were too hot against his skin. He stripped off his clothes, they came off easily, and he stretched out naked in the cool breezes as the sun set, hoping they would ease the heat inside him as much as the heat on his skin. 

 

The light darkened as the sun winked at the horizon, from yellow to gold to orange. Willas finally thought he might be able to sleep now. 

 

Until there was a knock on the door. "May I come in?” Oberyn said, and stepped inside. 

 

Willas snatched up his fallen clothes and pulled them across his lap. 

 

Oberyn held up his hands. “There is no need to cover yourself on my account. I imagine it’s very hot for you here.”

 

“It is,” Willas said, adjusting the thin robe between his legs. 

 

"Are you enjoying your stay?” Oberyn asked. 

 

"Your honor me with your hospitality, Your Highness."

 

Oberyn folded his arms behind his back. "Your Highness? I thought we were past such formalities.”

_I had thought so too._

 

“Have I done something to displease you?”

 

Willas swallowed heavily. “It’s not your job to please me.” 

 

Oberyn took a step forward. “So I  _have_  displeased you?”

 

Willas flushed. He was burning up, and couldn’t tell if it was the heat of the sun or the arousal that had begun in the pit of his stomach. “You… you haven’t, but I…  assumed things I should not have.” 

 

Oberyn smiled. “What did you assume?” 

 

Willas felt embarrassed thinking about it, so he watched the curtains, how they moved in the breeze. “We write between the lines in the Reach, speak in half truths when what we want to say is less than acceptable. In all your… heated letters, I assumed that you might have wanted more than my… conversation.” 

 

Oberyn sat on the edge of the bed. “What made you think I don’t?” 

 

"So many tales of how things are 'done differently in Dorne' are false, and you have a paramour. It seems like you really love her.

 

Oberyn fingered the edge of Willas’s silk robe. “I do love her.”

 

“So I don’t imagine you’d be… intimate with just anyone.” 

 

“I don’t...” Oberyn pulled at the silk slightly, just enough for it to begin to slip down Willas’s chest. Willas’s heart beat faster, and he felt his cock stirring. “I don’t sleep with just anyone.”

 

Oberyn was looking into Willas's eyes as he pulled the silk off of him.  “But you’re not just anyone, Willas Tyrell.”

 

Willas bit his lip when Oberyn’s hand grazed the inside of his thigh. He knew he must look desperate, pleading, and he was not sure he had the words to ask for what he wanted, to say what he felt. 

 

Oberyn’s hand stopped just short of his half-hard cock.

 

“Or am I assuming?”

 

“Please...” was all Willas said. 

 

Oberyn’s hand stroked his cock gently and he lowered his mouth to kiss the tip of it. 

 

“Pleeease…” 

 

Oberyn’s mouth worked him slowly, his lips and tongue finding sensitives places that Willas himself never knew were there.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Willas said, and it came out a desperate whimper. "Please assume everything.” 

 

***

 

Oberyn fell into a deep sleep when they were done, but Willas had always felt particularly alert afterwards.

 

The chill night breezes pushed the curtains inside and the full moon revealed all the glory of his fine room and the fine man asleep beside him, tense sinews now relaxed in sleep and the aftermath of pleasure. 

 

Willas had never thought himself the sort of man who would take a lover like this, someone he knew only through his letters, truly, but he felt just as at ease as Oberyn looked. 

 

The door slowly swung open, and Willas realized neither of them had locked it.

 

“I thought I’d find him here,” Ellaria said, walking towards them. 

 

Willas wondered if he should apologize, being found in bed with her lover, but she slid onto the bed on Willas’s other side. “I was wondering where he’d gotten to.”

 

Willas had heard of men deceiving their wives in a similar manner, and he felt for a moment like he was the villain. 

 

“Are you angry with me?”

 

She looked confused. “No. You make him happy.”

 

“I did not want to assume anything. You seemed so in love.” 

 

“We are. Oberyn and I are devoted to each other, but not only to each other, you understand?”

 

Her features were lovely gilded in the moonlight, the curve of her nose and the shape of her large eyes arresting. 

 

“Is it a Dornish tradition?” he asked, feeling like a fool again. “This… openness?” 

 

"If you think there have been no such relationships north of the Prince’s Pass, you need to look to your own history, good ser.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

 

She pushed his hair off of his face. 

 

"Oberyn and I have no secrets.” 

 

“We have too many of those in the Reach.” Willas became aware only then of his nakedness. 

 

“I don’t want to assume anything, either,” she said.  “We have been known to share lovers, but you know him, and you don’t know me, and some men only prefer one or the other…” 

 

Willas felt his cock stirring yet again, and he wondered what made him so eager again and again and again. 

 

She bent her head to kiss him, and he kissed her back, his hands running along her legs and up beneath her dress to cup her breasts.

 

Her moans must have woken Oberyn, who turned towards Willas, caressing his arm and kissing his shoulder.

 

"You couldn’t let us alone, could you, Ellaria?"

 

"You disappeared. I found you.”

 

Oberyn kissed Willas’s neck and cheek. “We should let our guest sleep.” 

 

The feeling of their hands on his skin, both of them at once he thought would feel… dirty? Wrong? What had he thought. Up until this point in his life, Willas had avoided brothels and any serious trysts, nothing beyond a few kisses and hands down trousers and up skirts, and he was often left feeling greedy, selfish, and empty afterward. But this… Oberyn naked beside him, and his lover above him, silhouetted in moonlight, it felt as warm and natural as the sun on his face. 

 

"Or we could… all stay awake? Together?” 

 

Oberyn kissed each of them in turn. "I like that even better."


End file.
